


Like Summer

by SuggestiveScribe



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fireworks, Fluff, IwaOi Day, M/M, Summer Festival, and also dangos, how to tie obi belts for dummies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 20:10:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5640361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuggestiveScribe/pseuds/SuggestiveScribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We're wearing yukata because it's our last summer festival in high school," Oikawa enlightened him, ignoring the rhetorical nature of Iwaizumi's question. He slung the band of fabric back around Iwaizumi's hips, then began looping the ends under itself. His voice dropped unintentionally with his next words, eyes focused on the automatic movement of his fingers, "We should do it right."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Summer

Oikawa's feet were lightly padding up and down the hallway, steps thumping quick and soft against the hardwood. He paused, huffing a small sigh before glancing down to adjust the position of his obi for the hundredth time. The yukata kept his movements polite and succinct, reining in his pacing outside the bedroom door.

"Iwa-chan," he called, voice falling into a whine at the end. "What is taking you so long?"

Oikawa's fingers curled around the hem of his sleeves as he waited, but he was met with nothing but silence.

His head tipped back on his neck. Even though the fabric of his yukata was light, Oikawa could feel heat crawling up his chest and flushing his cheeks. Getting ready had been fine until he was forced out of his bedroom and into silence, and now he found himself susceptible to his own thoughts. He glanced down the hallway and out the window. The pane of glass framed the fall of the sun, gold and red spreading across the horizon like fire and dragging the deep blue of dusk in its wake.

Oikawa's head snapped back toward the door, "Iwa-chan hurry up; we're going to miss out on a good spot to watch fireworks."

"I'm sure Yahaba will get there early enough to save us a spot," Iwaizumi called through the door, voice rough and muffled.

" _Or_ ," Oikawa offered, "you could take less than two years to put on a yukata."

"Shut up Oikawa; I can't concentrate with you yapping out there."

Oikawa's eyes narrowed. _Concentrate._

A bubble of laughter rose in Oikawa's throat, and he covered his mouth with his hand even though no one was around to see him. " _Oh_ Iwa-chan, how could I have forgotten," Oikawa taunted, making his way toward the door with as much saunter as a yukata would allow. He bent forward slightly at the hips, mouth slipping into a grin, "You never learned how to properly tie an obi."

There was another silence.

"Iwa- _chan_ ," Oikawa sang, drumming his fingers against the wood, "I know you need me."

"I'm fine," Iwaizumi barked. "Go somewhere."

"I would _like_ to go to the festival," Oikawa said sliding his fingers mindlessly over the wood. "But my best friend is keeping me trapped at home."

 _Best friend._ Oikawa's fingers halted at his own words, and he swallowed the lump in his throat.

The door swung open beneath his touch, revealing Iwaizumi's deep frown and an obi slung sloppily around his hips, the ties and folds a limp and convoluted mess.

"I _knew_ it," Oikawa whispered with a grin.

Iwaizumi's arms flailed once in frustration, "Just help me tie the damn thing."

"Sure, sure," Oikawa said, taking a few small steps into the room. He tugged at the obi, unraveling the strip of fabric so he could start over.

"Why did we have to wear yukata anyway," Iwaizumi grumbled, glancing away from the pleased expression on Oikawa's face. "It's a pain."

Oikawa's fingers slid under the folds of the yukata, checking to make sure it was tied nice and tight. "We're wearing yukata because it's our last summer festival in high school," Oikawa enlightened him, ignoring the rhetorical nature of Iwaizumi's question. He slung the band of fabric back around Iwaizumi's hips, then began looping the ends under itself. His voice dropped unintentionally with his next words, eyes focused on the automatic movement of his fingers, "We should do it right."

Iwaizumi made a small disgruntled noise on his next exhale, but he didn't argue. Instead he sent his gaze downward, watching the loop and slide of Oikawa's fingers. Oikawa was trying not to think again, was pushing away the millions of ways he had imagined this night going, the millions of ways he knew it wouldn't.

Iwaizumi huffed through his nose, "I'm watching you do it and I'm still confused."

Oikawa coughed a small laugh, mouth curling up at the corners. He glanced up at Iwaizumi, lips parted and ready for a sassy retort, but when his gaze halted he was met with the sight of Iwaizumi's face, exceptionally close. He was still staring down at Oikawa's hands, steel eyes calm and focused. Oikawa's eyes slid around his cheekbones and down his jaw, committing the bronze of his skin to memory because it felt warm, like summer.

When he breathed, Oikawa could feel the puff of breath against his own face, could feel the rhythm of his stomach rise and fall against his knuckles.  

Iwaizumi blinked up at him, face blank save for a small amount of intrigue as to why Oikawa's motions had suddenly ceased.

Oikawa cleared his throat and sent his eyes back down, attempting to disregard the slam of his heart in his chest and the flutter of his pulse in his throat.

"It's not that difficult," Oikawa informed him, refusing to acknowledge the silence entirely. "Frankly I think it's more impressive that you still struggle with it after all these years."

He yanked the fabric tight and Iwaizumi grunted. Oikawa then took hold of the knot and slid it toward Iwaizumi's back as he stepped around him, placing it at the base of his spine.

"All done," he breathed, stepping back to survey the full view of Iwaizumi's yukata. Oikawa's eyes slid around his hips and up his back, sweeping across the spread of his shoulders. Iwaizumi looked different compared to the last time Oikawa had done this. His hips were slimmer, or his shoulders were broader, or...

"Thanks," Iwaizumi said, dusting invisible dust off his chest as he turned around and glanced down at Oikawa's work. He raised his arms for a moment, craning his neck to glance at the knot and the proper cinch of his obi.

"Anytime," Oikawa said, waving the comment away with a flick of his wrist. "I'm always there to help those in need."

"Yeah," Iwaizumi said, sarcasm dripping heavily from his voice. "Right."

"Truly selfless," Oikawa continued.

"And also a comedian."

"Come on," Oikawa said, tugging lightly on Iwaizumi's sleeve. "We have friends to meet up with."

Iwaizumi was lifting his legs up and down, testing the fabric, "I'm going to fall down the stairs trying to walk in this."

Oikawa rolled his eyes, "Jeeze Iwa-chan, it's not that difficult. Try to have some grace for once in your life."

Iwaizumi shot him a dirty glance, "I'm going to push you down the stairs and we'll see how much grace you have then."

"More grace than you walking, probably."

Iwaizumi rolled up his sleeves, "Say your prayers, Trashkawa."

"I was kidding!"

 

*

 

The streets were filled with people and lined with booths; a glow worked over the festival and formed its own atmosphere, locking in the smell of fried food and the sound of laughter. Oikawa's eyes swept over the stands, sparkling.

His voice came out a whisper, "I feel like I could eat an entire army's worth of food."

"Yeah," Iwaizumi grunted. "And _I'm_ the brute."

Oikawa grabbed Iwaizumi's wrist, sights set on his first target. "Dangos," he declared.

"Really?" Iwaizumi asked, but he followed anyway, not fighting in the least as Oikawa dragged him through the crowd.

" _Aah_ , everything looks and smells so nice," Oikawa commented, focus jumping from stands to torches to the endless dark of the night sky.

"The humidity isn't too awful either," Iwaizumi agreed from behind him. There was certainly a layer of it in the air, a light stick of moisture to skin, but in the scheme of things it was faint, a reminder of summer.

Oikawa paused in front of a booth, feet halting. His fingers compulsively curled tighter around Iwaizumi's wrist. "What do you want?" he asked, sending a glance over his shoulder. Iwaizumi was gazing up at the sign, the torches and lanterns turning his skin to gold.

His mouth twisted around for a small moment before he gave a listless shrug, "Mmm, I don't care."

Oikawa frowned at him, "The Iwa-chan I know is passionate about his food."

Iwaizumi blinked over at him, "Yeah well the Iwa-chan you know has an upset stomach."

"Hearing you say 'Iwa-chan' is a bit unsettling."

They both turned to see Matsukawa and Hanamaki behind them, Hanamaki delivering a quick smirk.

"Mattsun, Makki!" Oikawa greeted before nodding his head toward the booth, "Dango?"

Mattsun silently shook his head while Makki touched at his stomach, "I just ate a ton of yakisoba."

"Weak," Iwaizumi commented.

Oikawa narrowed his eyes, "You just said--"

"Get me whatever you're getting," Iwaizumi cut him off.

"The true embodiment of a man," Mattsun remarked lowly.

Makki squinted at him, "I can't believe you're making me consider fighting you with dangos."

Oikawa dug into his bag with his left hand, fumbling with bills before sliding them across the booth.

"Don't bother," Iwa-chan responded, glancing off to the side. "You won't win."

Oikawa handed Iwaizumi a skewer, and he grabbed it without so much as a twitch from the arm still within Oikawa's grasp. He tugged a ball off the skewer with his teeth and allowed it to fall back into his mouth, his jaw working to chew it all in one go.

Oikawa huffed breath onto his own skewer, the heat and steam sticking to his lips. Iwaizumi's pride was going to earn him a burned tongue in the morning. Oikawa would harass him then.

"Did you guys find a place for fireworks yet?" Iwaizumi asked them after swallowing his first dango.

Oikawa was suddenly hyper aware of the fact that he still had his hand wrapped around Iwaizumi's wrist. He half expected Iwaizumi to pull away from the touch with the appearance of their teammates, but here he stood, dango occupying one hand while Oikawa controlled the other.

"Yeah, Yahaba grabbed us a spot," Makki answered, vaguely motioning in the direction of their plot.

Iwaizumi sent Oikawa a haughty glance over his shoulder. ' _I told you so_ ', it read _._ Oikawa sneered at him.

"How long have you been here?" Iwaizumi continued the conversation without much pause, tugging the next ball of fried dough into his mouth.

Their voices dissolved into white noise as Oikawa nibbled at his dangos. He lightly pressed his fingers in against Iwaizumi's pulse, the delicate skin revealing the steady thrum of his heart. Oikawa concentrated on it, allowed it to steal his focus and blanch all other sounds and vibrations from his consciousness. It distracted him, the beat playing steady and loud like a taiko drum.

He wanted to rest his head on Iwaizumi's shoulder, feeling nothing but his heartbeat. It seemed natural, almost as if it was something Oikawa had done a million times before, but he hadn't, probably not even once, and the reality was that Oikawa had simply though about it often enough to make it feel like fact.

Bitterness attempted to crawl up Oikawa's throat but he ignored it, ignored the lurching of his heart in his chest, and instead considered sliding his fingers down into Iwaizumi's palm, slipping them into the empty spaces between Iwaizumi's fingers and squeezing.

Oikawa's middle finger trailed downward as he thought, bravery tempting his cowardice, and Iwaizumi's fingers twitched.

Oikawa coughed, dropping his hold on Iwaizumi's hand and leaning heavily on his shoulder with his elbow. "Maybe we should go sit," he suggested with a smile that stretched him broad and thin.

There was a moment of quickly exchanged glances, and then a unanimous nod of approval.

They made their way through the crowd, bumping shoulders and weaving around heads until the cluster began to diffuse. "Up this hill," Makki said with a wave.

Iwaizumi cast a quick glance at Oikawa, his voice low, "Are you alright?"

Oikawa's eyelashes fluttered, his gaze hopping away from Iwaizumi's face before blinking back again, "Of course I am Iwa-chan; why would you ask?"

Iwaizumi's eyes narrowed, mouth carved into a straight line. Oikawa was desperate to yank his gaze away from the contact of Iwaizumi's eyes, but he willed himself to stay firm. "You're acting strange," Iwaizumi stated, voice uncompromising.

Oikawa tipped his chin up as he scoffed at him, "You're imagining things; perhaps the heat has gotten to your head."

Iwaizumi's stare didn't waver, but eventually it yielded, skirting forward once more, "Whatever you say Oikawa."

Oikawa's eyes dropped downward, taking in the shuffle of their sandaled feet through the grass. Iwaizumi could be so impossibly dense, and yet he was always sensitive to Oikawa's slightest shift in mood.

Oikawa was as flattered as he was irritated.

"Nice spot," Iwaizumi chirped once they reached the top of the hill. The green of the grass was tinted dark by the night sky, the blades housing small clusters of shadows between them. Everything had that nighttime hue, the blue-black only driven off by the flicker of lanterns and torchlight encircling the crowd.

"As to be expected of Yahaba," Oikawa commented happily as he came to a stop next to Iwaizumi.

"Ah, thanks," Yahaba replied, eyes sliding away from the pair. His yukata was striped and light blue; it suited him.

"You look nice," Oikawa added.

Yahaba's cheeks flushed, "Thank you."

"I told you I would be the outlier," Kyoutani grumbled beside him, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans.

Yahaba shot him a sharp glance out the corner of his eyes, "You also said yukata were stupid."

The toothpick pinched between Kyoutani's teeth bobbed as he chewed on it, "I didn't mean yours..."

"Hanamaki-san," Kindaichi piped up, holding out his hands. "I found another booth--" he extended his arms, offering Makki a small package of cream puffs.

Makki grabbed it, eyes glittering, " _My hero_." Matsukawa shook his head.

Iwaizumi sent him a sideways glance, arms crossed over his chest, "I thought you were too full."

"There's always room for cream puffs," Hanamaki responded seriously.

Oikawa shrugged, "Sound logic."

That's when the first pop sounded, a loud snap that echoed through the hills and streets before exploding into fiery sparks of color.

Oikawa stood directly behind Iwaizumi, gazing up at the sky. Soon there were multiple wails and hisses sounding at once, the shrieking dying off into silence before bursting loud and bright. Pink and gold and blue scattered across the sky, tendrils sailing out into smooth curves before dissipating into smoke.

"Pretty," Oikawa said, eyes following the next shot into the sky. Iwaizumi glanced back at him, mouth moving to form the word, 'what?', but it was impossible to hear over the stream of fireworks screeching in the background.

Oikawa simply smiled, and Iwaizumi turned back around, head tilted upward.

Oikawa watched the fireworks pulse multicolored light onto Iwaizumi's face, cheekbones and jaw line flashing green and pink, blue and orange. The thunderous bass of the explosions shook Oikawa's chest, rattling his sternum and ribcage.

He had told himself a million times to drop the act, to rid himself of the fear and the uncertainty, and simply tell Iwaizumi what had been plaguing him. Oikawa believed in Iwaizumi. Even if Iwaizumi didn't feel the way Oikawa felt, he wouldn't abandon him. Oikawa knew that.

He watched splashes of light flicker over Iwaizumi's cheek.

Knowing that might have made it harder.

Oikawa leaned forward, resting his chin on Iwaizumi's shoulder. He didn't have the courage. Oikawa was beginning to believe that he would never have the courage. He lightly hooked his finger into the back of Iwaizumi's obi, contented by the closeness of him, even if it wasn't the closeness Oikawa wanted.

Iwaizumi didn't shift or stir, and his profile remained steady as he gazed up at the display. Oikawa's eyes fluttered closed for half a moment. The loud cracking vibrated across his flesh.

When Oikawa opened his eyes it was right as a new firework was being launched, its smoky trail squealing into the air. Just as it hit the top of its reach, just as it burst open to spray loud and bright over the field, Oikawa sighed words into the explosion, "I love you."

Except it was quiet. The firework was time delayed, a small pop snapping in the air before a moment of silence, and then the excited fizzle of gold crackled in the sky.

Oikawa felt his eyes grow wide, and Iwaizumi and the rest of the team all turned their heads to stare holes into the side of Oikawa's face.

Oikawa's breath caught in his chest; his lungs were no longer functional. Iwaizumi was still staring.

"I mean," Oikawa croaked, standing straight and holding up his hands as another firework exploded excitedly in front of them.

Iwaizumi's eyes followed him, silently.

"That was," Oikawa began again, sweat forming at his hairline and making his skin itch all over. Oikawa could feel the weight of all their eyes on him. He found himself praying to pass out.

"Did you mean it?" Iwaizumi asked. Everyone's eyes shifted to Iwaizumi, then back to Oikawa.

Sweat rolled down Oikawa's face. "We're best friends," he offered weakly.

Iwaizumi fully turned to face him, squaring his shoulders and abandoning the view of the fireworks behind him, "You know what I mean."

Oikawa glanced away, a nervous laugh falling out of his throat, "Iwa-chan," he coughed, "come on--"

"Because I would be immensely relieved to hear that."

Oikawa froze.

Iwaizumi sighed, shoulders slumping. "I was going to confess tonight," he explained, motioning behind him as a firework exploded into a mess of pink and gold. "But if you're doing it for me, well," he shrugged. "It helps me not stress so much."

Oikawa's eyes were huge in his head, and when he attempted to speak it came out a wheeze, " _What?_ "

"Oikawa-san looks like he's going to pass out," Kunimi commented mildly from the sidelines.

"You were _what?_ " Oikawa repeated with a little more of his voice.

"I was going to confess," Iwaizumi repeated, voice perfectly even. "Since it's our last summer festival in high school, and all."

Oikawa made a strained noise in the back of his throat, pressing his hand to his chest as a firework ruptured and boomed in front of him.

" _Critical hit_ ," Makki narrated into the cup of his hands.

" _Finish him_ ," Mattsun added.

Iwaizumi took a step forward, grabbing Oikawa's hand away from his chest and staring him hard in the eyes, "I've been a wreck trying to figure out how to tell you."

Oikawa's other hand shook and he immediately used it to cover his mouth, his lips attempting to warp into something unsightly as his eyes stung and vision blurred.

Iwaizumi's face softened, "I love you too." His hand squeezed tighter around Oikawa's, "Probably for a long time."

When Oikawa blinked, tears fell out of his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.  

" _Fatality_ ," Makki and Mattsun announced with a victorious clench of their fists.

Iwaizumi smiled, "You're always a few steps ahead of me, aren't you?"

Oikawa shook his head. He wasn't sure what those words meant or how to breathe, so a shake of his head would just have to suffice for everything at the moment.

A firework exploded behind Iwaizumi, but the contented slant of his face was left untouched by the light.

"Stop crying," he said, leaning forward and tugging at Oikawa's obi. "This is a happy thing." Then he pressed his lips to Oikawa's, the soft plush of his mouth fitting around his bottom lip, and Oikawa's heart leapt from his chest and into his throat.

When he inhaled it was against Iwaizumi's lips, the scent and taste bronze and gold like summer, the heat of the palm resting on Oikawa's hip burning through the fabric of his yukata like the sun.

There were a couple whistles, maybe a few mumbled 'get a room's, but Oikawa couldn't hear any of them over the pounding of his heart, the euphoric rush of his pulse that dizzied his mind and eclipsed even the sound of the sparkling explosions around them.

Oikawa's arms squeezed tight around Iwaizumi's waist, and when they pulled away for a moment he could see that Iwaizumi was smiling, could feel the quick rise and fall of his chest against his own.

Oikawa touched their foreheads together, and this time when he spoke it was directly to Iwaizumi, properly, voice clear even if it had gone raspy with emotion, "I love you."

Iwaizumi tilted his head, lightly sliding his lips over Oikawa's. When he spoke it was against Oikawa's mouth, each syllable a tangible vibration against his lips, "I love you too."

Oikawa kissed the words off his mouth, and he hoped to be able to hear and taste those words for a very long time.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> <http://suggestivescribe.tumblr.com/>


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